This is something I wrote one day when my family was here and I was (as usual) hiding out in my room for the most part. Nothing amazing, just something to read. I calls it 20
I look around my room and it looks like one of a 20 year old. I mean I am 20 so it’s not surprising. A dresser with make-up and body sprays to choose from. I sit on my beat up chair, feet on my bed, reading Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta and listening to Boys like Girls. My bed is messy, my air force CDC book and note cards scattered all over. TV with lots of DVDs from Little Mermaid to Chappell show (seasons 1 and 2). Jackets piled on my other chair in front of the desk I should be using to do my homework. Loads of magazines and clippings of music artists and fashion models on the closet door and wall. A picture of my best friend who is in Florida, now next to my lap top where my Twitter page is opened. It looks like the room of someone who could actually do something. Books piled on the nightstand and writing ideas on my desktop. But yet I feel like I am going nowhere most o the time. Like I am in the “waiting place”, if I can quote the late Dr. Seuss. I feel the potential inside of me; I just have to apply it. But with that comes focus, which I have been lacking recently. It’s getting better, I study more and BS less. A slow climb to the top, but a climb none the less. Anyway, back to my book…